Published: July 13, 2004 12:00 AM

By MARK KOVACFarm EditorAlan Keener's work day begins at midnight with frothy orange juice and 2 percent milk.Over the course of his eight-hour shift, Keener will go through more than 90,000 gallons, heating and then quickly cooling the liquids in preparation for later shifts at Smith Dairy Products Co.Keener oversees nighttime pasteurization activities at the longtime Orrville company. It's his job to make sure enough orange juice concentrate and milk are processed for bottling or making into sour cream, cottage cheese and other dairy products."We have to make enough but not too much," he said as he watched a computer panel on the side of one machine.Wayne County produces more milk than any other area in Ohio. Dairies like Smith's play an important role in the agricultural economy, preparing the end products consumers purchase at grocery stores or eat and drink in restaurants.Farmers milk cows two or three times a day, 365 days a year. To keep up with that flow, Smith Dairy seldom sleeps.Mondays through Saturdays throughout the year, employees work around the clock."There's a lot going on at Smith Dairy at 3:30 in the morning," production manager Karl Kelbly said early one recent morning after checking night-shift activities.The longer summer days also give area farmers extended opportunities to complete field work and livestock chores. About the time Keener's shift was ending, Marcus Ladrach was out in his family's vegetable field, picking spinach, broccoli and other fresh produce for restaurants in Wooster and Cleveland.By lunchtime, Ohio State University scientist Srinand Sreevatsan was overseeing graduate students in a laboratory at the Ohio Agricultural Research and Development Center, completing complex research that has practical implications and applications for area farmers.Late in the afternoon, Jim Anderson's grandkids were running small herds of sheep from pasture to barn and back at his Franklin Township farm near the county line.And just before dark, Josh Moorefield was busy greasing implements for the next day's baling and preparing for a late night of hay cutting at a Blachleyville field."As much as we can stay awake, we work," Moorefield said.Curds and wheyFour silos stand tall at Smith Dairy's facilities in downtown Orrville.Each holds about 50,000 gallons, and trucks unload raw milk produced on area farms throughout the day. About 90 percent comes from within 30 minutes of Smith's, Kelbly said.A complex tangle of pipes and tubes transports the raw milk the dairy uses 100,000-120,000 gallons per day, Kelbly said from the silos into the pasteurization area at the plant.There, just after 3:30 a.m., Keener watched gauges to make sure orange juice and milk were processed properly.The late shift actually starts about midnight with a massive cleaning of the dairy. Employees, like Chris McConnell, use hoses spraying 160-degree water to wash pipes, tanks, strainers and other equipment and parts.After cleanup comes pasteurization. Milk is heated to about 165 degrees for 17 seconds, then cooled quickly. About 100 gallons can be run through the system every minute; the process kills bacteria that can make people sick or cause products to spoil prematurely.Once pasteurized, milk is sealed in storage tanks to be bottled for drinking (using plastic gallon jugs Smith's makes on site) or made into ice cream, sour cream and other dairy products.In an adjacent room, Rick Byer drained excess liquid from a soon-to-be-completed batch of cottage cheese and filled an adjacent vat with fresh milk to start another.Making cottage cheese takes about 12 hours, including time for cleaning and filling vats, allowing milk mixed with cultures to grow and draining and cleaning the finished product.During his shift, Byer kept a close watch on two 4,000-gallon vats. Eventually, he drained the whey and washed the curds before pumping the contents into a nearby tank.Later, a creamy dressing would be added, and the finished product pumped into containers. Each vat makes about 9,000 pounds, and the dairy makes three or four batches each day.Elsewhere in the plant, workers filled containers with ice cream (about 2,400 half-gallon boxes are finished each hour) and pumped orange juice into bottles."Keep it cold, keep it clean and keep it moving," Kelbly said.Spinach and broccoliLadrach carried a basket with 10 dozen eggs from the henhouse to a nearby utility vehicle.The gathering was the first of many chores the Chester Township farmer had on his morning "To Do" list. Also on the agenda were feeding sheep, cows, chickens and cats, watering greenhouse plants and picking vegetables."We've got a little bit of everything," he said.Marcus and Beth Ladrach pick vegetables twice a week. On Fridays, they gather produce for their booth at the downtown Wooster farmers market. On Wednesdays, they fill orders for restaurants in Wooster and the Cleveland area.The family farm has about 160 acres, including spelt, soybeans, corn, hay, oats and pasture. All of the space is certified organic; the Ladrachs use no chemicals in production.They're among the nearly 240 farms on 24,652 acres in Ohio and 7,254 farms on 562,486 acres nationwide that have been certified organic, according to the statistics compiled as part of the recently released 2002 Census of Agriculture. The count marked the first time the U.S. Department of Agriculture's National Agricultural Statistics Service included organic acres in the once-every-five-years census.Organic farming can be labor intensive. Ladrach said crops are planted a little bit later, and the ground between rows has to be cultivated during the season to prevent weeds.But the extra work is worth it."You get a little more for your crop," Ladrach said. "(And) I liked the idea of not using any chemicals."About 5 acres of the Ladrachs' farm is devoted to vegetables, including rows of lettuce, tomatoes, sweet corn, potatoes, beets, cabbage, kale and peppers. Restaurants, including the South Market Bistro in downtown Wooster, submit orders to the couple each week."They take what's in season," Beth Ladrach said.On this day, Ladrach carried empty tubs to the field to fill with spinach, broccoli, chard and lettuce. He started with spinach, a perpetual crop that grows throughout the season. Ladrach carefully cut stems, leaving the center of the leafy plant, and banded green bunches together for transport.Next, he walked along a row of broccoli, searching for the biggest heads, cutting the center portions and filling another tub. Each plant will grow one large head and several smaller ones during the season.Once the tubs were full, Ladrach planned to take the freshly picked produce and eggs to Tom and Wendy Wiandt, a young farm couple who grow mushrooms, to take to the Cleveland area customers.Later in the day, Ladrach hoped to start baling close to 30 acres of hay he had cut earlier.Microbial forensicsHarish Janagama jiggled a flask and looked carefully at its liquid contents.The graduate student at OARDC was preparing large white blood cells to see how they reacted to different pathogens.In another lab, technician Megan Strother separated test tube samples as part of a study related to Johne's disease, a bacterial illness that affects dairy cows, beef cattle, sheep, goats and some wild animals.During any given day, Janagama and Strother and other graduate students, post-doctoral fellows and technicians are hard at work in Sreevatsan's labs as part of the Food Animal Health Research Program at OARDC in Wooster.They are the scientist's hands "Without them, I couldn't survive," he said.Sreevatsan is trained as a veterinarian and worked in private industry before coming to OARDC, where, his "academic whirlpool" of interests includes Johne's disease and transmissible spongiform encephalopathies.Earlier in the week, Sreevatsan was on a local dairy farm, taking blood, milk and fecal samples to compare and collate. Researchers in his labs will use the samples and others to complete complex analyses with hopes, ultimately, of addressing some fairly basic concerns among agriculturists.According to information compiled by OARDC, close to half of all U.S. dairy herds have animals infected with Johne's, also called paratuberculosis. It "can affect a large proportion of the herd and cause production losses, premature culling (early sale of a heifer) and loss of marketability of breeding stock," according to OSU.The disease costs farmers about $245 per infected cow that translates to total industrywide losses of $200 million to $250 million annually, according to OARDC.Sreevatsan has been studying the disease at the molecular level, outlining minute genetic characteristics and searching for correlation between bacteria that affect humans, dairy cows and other animals.Which is what Strother was doing in one lab, carefully reviewing test tubes filled with samples."It's true microbial forensics," Sreevatsan said.Another project focuses on early detection methods for bovine spongiform encephalopathy, or mad cow disease. Sreevatsan has been working on methods to detect prions the agents responsible for the disease in living animals. Current tests provide definite diagnoses after death, according to OARDC.'There they go'Sam Anderson casually walked into one of the pastures at his grandpa's farm in southern Wayne County.The first herd of sheep he and his sisters, Marybeth and Claire, had to drive to a nearby barn were older and fatter than the nimble lambs they had to chase later, and the college junior wasn't too concerned about them getting away.A few steps later, the 25 or so woolly animals started running in the opposite direction."There they go," Sam Anderson said, breaking into a sprint along one side.Quickly, the three Anderson grandchildren moved in different directions, headed off the animals and drove them toward the gate.All three are runners, said Jim Anderson, who "retired" to the farm after teaching university classes in Michigan. Sam, Marybeth and Claire also have been running sheep herds since they were youngsters."They have been working with sheep since they could walk practically," Jim Anderson said.The Andersons have about 300 Polypays, a breed is known for its prolificacy they lamb about five times every three years.The local sheep industry has been growing, and the Andersons' operation is among the larger farms in the county. According to the latest census findings, the number of Wayne County farms with sheep grew from 1997 to 2002 from 130 farms with about 4,600 head to 188 farms with a total of 6,381 head. Of the 2002 total, 170 had fewer than 100 animals.Jim Anderson's son, John, manages the sheep operation. Daily chores include checking and feeding the herds and five large Great Pyrenees dogs that keep the sheep safe from predators.Sam, Marybeth and Claire Anderson grew up working on the farm, often completing evening chores after school or summer jobs. On this evening, their tasks included driving herds into a barn for oral doses of de-wormer and separating rams used in breeding. Moving the groups from field to barn and back again took some strategy. Sam, Marybeth and Claire used a tactical approach, spreading out and then closing in to keep the moving animals confined. "They know pretty well what the sheep is thinking," Jim Anderson said.Cut, rake, bale, repeatMoorefield works day and night, repeating the basic steps required to move grasses from fields into horse stalls in Cleveland and Florida.Moorefield cuts hay late a night, often working until well after midnight. About 7 a.m. the next morning, he's out "tedding," fluffing and spreading out the recently cut grasses to dry in the sun.Before lunch, he rakes the hay back into rows. And throughout the afternoon, he bundles the hay into small rectangular bales.When the dew sets in around 7 or 8 p.m., Moorefield's hired hands begin unloading the day's production into barns."The hay gets tough (to bale when it's wet)," he said.As the sun sets, Moorefield greases and completes routine maintenance on his implements. After dark, he's back out in the field cutting hay for the next day.The same process is under way in fields across Wayne County, which leads the state in hay production. Local farmers bale nearly 152,000 tons on 49,700 acres annually, according to the latest count by the Ohio Agricultural Statistics Service."It's a real labor intensive market," Moorefield said.Some farmers opt for large round or rectangle bales, which better suit their storage space and needs. But Moorefield makes the smaller bales, a preferred option for horse owners.There are more than a dozen different types of hay, with customers asking for different mixes of alfalfa, orchard grass, clover and other varieties."There's a crop for every customer," Moorefield said. "And every horse owner has a preference. ... It requires a lot of management."Moorefield understands the economics of his work down to the last second. He can make about 100 bales per acre, or 2,000-3,000 over the course of a day. Each sells for about $4.50. Every minute he works adds to his daily bale count, and, potentially, his bottom line.But getting out in the fields has been difficult this year. The season generally runs from mid-May to mid-November, with Moorefield Farms taking four cuts off about 500 acres. But excessive rain pushed back baling activities. Moorefield said it was mid-June before he was out in earnest. "It's been a wet year, a tough year," he said.Moorefield finished adding grease to some implements, then prepared for the 45-minute drive to a field in the Blachleyville area. A short drive in a car is a long trek for a haybine, and many drivers aren't as understanding of agricultural traffic, Moorefield said. In years past, cars would slow down and give a friendly wave.Now, cars don't slow down, and drivers often wave with only one finger.Still, Moorefield expected to work until midnight or 1 a.m., then make the slow drive back to the Shreve area for a few hours of sleep before staring the process again the next day.Weather permitting.County reporter/Farm editor Marc Kovac can be reached at (330) 287-1645 or e-mail at mkovac@the-daily-record.com.